


Human Dating

by xTheLittleOne



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M, That's all there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTheLittleOne/pseuds/xTheLittleOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shit what were you doing. Letting yourself indulge on some wiggler's fantasy on your best bro's sleeping body? How low can you get? You disgusting excuse for an asspimple on life's left cheek. </p><p>“Bro. Dude, Karkat, get back here. Wait.”</p><p>Your bloodpump is doing an admirable attempt to violently force its way out of your chest, has given up trying to break through the chitinous plates of your ribcage, and is en route to exit via your throat. You really would have run anyway, had not for the fact a strong hand wrapped around your wrist and was pulling you back, preventing you from doing so without taking the whole damn human with you. Trying not to let your breath escape you too via hyperventilation, your eyes were round as saucers as you turned around, expecting the worse. To be hit, to have your broship ended, to be called disgusting, any number of terrible outcomes. What you did not expect, however, was to be pulled, to have a hand dig into your black hair, and to have lips eager to kiss you shoved into your face. If Gamzee hadn't ruined the word “miracles” for you, that's the word you'd be applying to this goddamned situation right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Dating

You're not entirely sure when you fell asleep. You remember Dave droning at you about this part in the movie, and you remember not having the energy to tell him to shut up. You were just that comfortable, in his respiteblock, on his concupiscent platform ( _bed_ , he tried to tell you time and time again, because it highly bothered him putting you and he and “concupiscent” in the same context together for some unfathomable reason.) Your husktop was on the edge of the bed, you both had been propped against the wall under a blanket. Just bros hanging out, beating the chill, watching a movie. Nothing out of the ordinary. As your awareness grew, the soft purring in your throat died out. It didn't cut off, however, until you registered a breath sweeping the hair around your horn, the warmth at the base of it, and a weight pressing against you.

Your eyes open and you sit rigid. You fell asleep against Dave. Okay, that's not the first time that happened. He was usually pretty cool about it. But you could feel his face against the top of your head, and tilting your neck back, you could feel your horn press against lips just under the nose. He'd fallen asleep on you, too. That _had_ to be an uncomfortable position.

“Dave?” you tested, growly voice quiet, not wanting to actually wake him if he was as asleep as you thought he was. There was a shift in breathing, but there was no answer. Your ears twitched. You should probably get out of this situation, and quickly. But you didn't want to. That breath on your horn was making your bloodpusher tap out an unsteady rhythm against your thoracic cavity, and you mentally beat it down. Quadrants and Dave. It didn't work. Even if you wanted it to. The way he shied away whenever the conversation came up was plenty to tell you that. There was no response. The only sound was the looping song of the DVD's title screen, your own stammering heartbeat, and Dave's breathing in your ear. You sigh. This was okay.

* * *

“Dave?”

Oh fuck, he was awake. It's cool Dave, play it off, pretend to be asleep, maybe he won't notice you were totally nuzzling up and snuggling on him. Noooo pressure. Just play it cool and—yes, mission accomplished. He's settling back down. Why did that sigh sound like—why is he _muttering_? Suddenly you feel a hand on your face, so gentle that even the long yellow claws don't prick you. Despite the fact he can't see your eyes due to your shades, you clamp your eyes shut anyway, pretending wholeheartedly that you're asleep. He's pushing your head away ever so gently, pulling away, leaving a cold space where his little space heater body was. Takes everything in your power not to grip into that ratty grey sweater of his with the arm you had around him, really.

“Sorry...”

 

Whoa whoa whoa, hold up, what's this? Karkat motherfucking Vantas _apologizing_? If you weren't doing your best impression of Sleeping Beauty you would have laughed at him. Why apologize for something that's happened a dozen times before. He fell asleep. Big deal. You weren't complain—whoa. Your eyes pop open when a second hand—just as warm as the first—cups your face, pulling it forward just a tiny bit for lips to brush together. The shock of an apology has exited stage left, please direct your attention front row and center to the fact your best bro ever is _kissing you_. You can sink bright pink bleeding through the grey of his face, and from this close, even with your shades, you can see darker spotting of freckles. Holy shit. And then suddenly he's pulling away and laying you down and leaving and holy shit no you get back here right now motherfucker.

“Bro. Dude, Karkat, get back here. Wait.”

* * *

Shit what were you doing. Letting yourself indulge on some wiggler's fantasy on your best bro's sleeping body? How low can you get? You disgusting excuse for an asspimple on life's left cheek. You can feel the burning all the way into your ears, and it's only the fact that you don't want Dave to thud against the mattress that keeps you fleeing, because that will wake him up, and you want the opposite to happen. Still, you're not prepared to jump out of your exoskeleton the moment your back is turned and you take that first step away.

“Bro. Dude, Karkat, get back here. Wait.”

Your bloodpump is doing an admirable attempt to violently force its way out of your chest, has given up trying to break through the chitinous plates of your ribcage, and is en route to exit via your throat. You really would have run anyway, had not for the fact a strong hand wrapped around your wrist and was pulling you back, preventing you from doing so without taking the whole damn human with you. Trying not to let your breath escape you too via hyperventilation, your eyes were round as saucers as you turned around, expecting the worse. To be hit, to have your broship ended, to be called disgusting, any number of terrible outcomes. What you did not expect, however, was to be pulled, to have a hand dig into your black hair, and to have lips eager to kiss you shoved into your face. If Gamzee hadn't ruined the word “miracles” for you, that's the word you'd be applying to this goddamned situation right now.

* * *

You might have acted without thinking. He just looked so scared like you were going to hate him or some incomprehensible bullshit, and that line of thought was not going to fly. All aboard the Strider express, choo choo motherfucker. You could feel those sharp teeth underneath the black lips that moved against yours, but you weren't worried. Hell, you'd kissed _Terezi_ , and she had the mouth of a shark, all serrated triangle rows of extreme fuck-you.

You finally let go of Karkat's wrist to go around his middle, kiss breaking off so you could laugh with your head against his chest, he standing in front of your bed and you on your knees on the mattress, awkwardly trying to balance your weight and not knock his computer down.

“You know, there _is_ such a thing as talking, bro.”

Karkat huffed and growled, giving up staring at your face when he couldn't make eye contact.

“Every time I bring up quadrants—”

Yep, you cut him off right there, right on the lips. He gives off a clicking sound deep in his chest that rises to a little chirp rapidly in his throat, a sound you've come to identify as one of frustration. The hand in his hair mysteriously found its way around his horn, and you can _feel_ the effect on his body when you dig your nails into the horn bed. The slight twitch, the raise in temperature as his face gets a little redder.

“Labels. I hate 'em, I ain't abiding by them. There's really only one thing either of us need to know here. Do I wanna get my mack on with you, and do you wanna get your mack on with me? The answer to both those questions is yes. You've got yourself an all inclusive free pass a la Strider, bro, spend it wisely, I'm here all night. And the next one, and the one after that. Fuck man, you wanna be a thing? _I_ wanna be a thing, I can't—” 

“For fuck's sake do you _ever_ shut up? I'm already regretting this.”

This time it's your time to be cut off. You were rambling, weren't you? Hey, wait a second, where did the laptop go? Wasn't it there a second ago? When you look back to Karkat, you're suddenly wincing, blinking at bright light (which honestly wasn't that bright), and you realize all at once that in his fingers are your sunglasses, and before you can even argue, they're gone into his sylladex right behind his laptop. He reaches for your chest, hesitates a moment with a bit lip. Then pushes you back so you're back in a seat. One knee comes up onto the bed towards you, and he's so close. But he still seems hesitant.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

“Man, do I gotta—mmf!”

* * *

You're keen on taking full advantage of this situation before Dave comes to his senses and kicks you out. You're pushing him back, not quite against the wall, but far enough that he has to shift his legs to stay comfortable, and you take that opportunity to straddle his lap and get closer. You're hyper aware of the hand on your horn and the fingers digging into your sweater, an uneven purr in your throat as you take on the challenge that are soft pink lips. For all your bravado, all your kissing experience comes from rom-coms instead of through trial and error, and you're almost glad he takes the reigns from you. Unafraid of your teeth, a tongue pushes passed your lips and you're eager to meet, careful not to bite, wanting to measure up to your partner. Even when a stray fang tears open a chapped lip, he truly, honestly, one-hundred-percent does not give a fuck, the only chance you get to say sorry is when he's laughing at the fact you care so much about it.

You're not sure when your bodies ended up flat on the mattress, your smaller form pressed against Dave's, held in place by his arms. His hand had disappeared under your sweater, stroking gently up your back. You chose not to let your opinion of self-image get in the way, gripping tightly to his red pajamas. It wasn't until his fingers had found one of the grubscars on your sides that you were distracted from the kiss, his absent fingers following along the length of the raised skin. It made you shiver, hips rolling automatically, grinding up against something hard against Strider's pants. The action caused him to gasp and you looked down immediately in curiosity, pushing back to sit up. You'd sort of skipped out of human anatomy 101 so didn't know what they were packing, fingers already finding the length of firmness through the fabric before you could be stopped.

“Dude, that's my—nngaah.”

A firm squeeze promptly cut off Dave's ability to talk, and your hand retracted like you'd grazed a hot burner, realizing what it was you were grabbing. Your skin felt on fire down to your chest. Holy shit, you hadn't meant...

“I'm s—”

You squeak when your side is pinched, Dave making eye contact.

“You apologize one more time and I'm gonna have to assume someone replaced my bro with a robot because ain't no way the real Karkat trips over his sorries so easliy.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you dip your head. When it becomes apparent you're frozen in place after that slip-up, Dave takes the wheel. You're pushed on your back, lips at your neck and teeth in your flesh. Your bulge was interested in the goings on for a little while now, but you could feel the friction of fabric as it tried to worm its way loose of your sheathe. No, bad. Unfortunately the way Dave had you pinned made you unable to clamp your legs closed, and the way his teeth nibbled at your pulse made your thinkpan check out, the absence of lips on your own leaving your voice unchallenged in response to Dave's ministrations. With everything he did to you, a distant part of you noticed he wasn't pushing. If you reacted uncomfortably to a touch, it didn't happen again. He wasn't pulling your clothes off, going for your pants. Silently, you were grateful. That was too fast, maybe he'd paid attention to some of those rom-coms after all. When you couldn't take any more, you pulled his head back up, squeezing him in a hug without words.

“I like you, Dave.”

“God, after all this, I sure hope so.”

You laugh, squeezing tighter before letting go, letting your head fall back to look at him. Red eyes, white blonde hair, pale skin. You never thought you'd fall in love with someone other than a troll, but here you were. He slides off you but keeps you close, wrapped up in cape and blanket and Dave.

“What does this make us then, Mr. 'I-Hate-Labels'?”

“Man, whatever you want it to be. Except not the black one, I think? I ain't into that.”

You scoff in mild amusement. He just didn't understand the intracacies of it.

“Fuck the quadrants, then,” you say, meeting his surprised glance. “Let's just be human dating.”

After a moment he was silent, then smiled, pressing his nose into your hair.

“Man, that's fine by me.”


End file.
